Sideways
by MontyTheDog
Summary: Just sex. Simple enough, right? Well, maybe not exactly. Rating may change- Densi
1. Part one: Deeks

_These feelings won't go away, they've been knocking me sideways-  
__Citizen Cope_

Physical or emotional.

The choice wasn't as easy to make as it may seem. See, with physical you get the best of the relationship, like the icing on the cake. Nothing could go wrong with just sex.

Emotional, on the other hand, could be just as good. You get the friendship, the banter, and every now and again the intimate talks about potentially taking their 'thing' a step further, a step closer to what they both wanted eventually. With emotional, when things we're good they were _really good_. But, in hindsight, when things were bad they were _really bad. _And when it came down to it, that was the deciding factor for the two.

It wasn't that hard, really. Ground rules, set a foundation, then _bam!_ Professionalism came easy when needed, partnership was still banter filled with just enough flirting to make it casual, and on top of still being best friends forever, inseparable, they got thoughtless sex out of their little rendezvous. Nothing better.

At least, they thought.

Neither of them was willing to find out if adding a layer of feelings to something purely physical was as bad an idea as they thought. Because if it went up in flames that was it. Curtains close, everyone leaves, Kensi and Deeks both absent a partner and a best friend. The risks were too high.

So, the unspoken rules between the two impromptu lovers went as followed:  
Numero uno: Sex.

Simple enough.

Number two: Absolutely under no circumstances any PDA at work.

Slightly harder with Hetty's sixth, seventh, and eighth senses, but still manageable.

Magic number three: No mention of fathers, childhoods, bullets, work, sentiments, Twinkies (ever since the company went out of business it'd been a touchy subject for Kensi), ex-fiances, children, death, cryogenically frozen anythings, ect., or in much simpler terms anything even slightly resembling or relating to feelings.

He wasn't going to lie, that rule was the hardest for him. But after Kensi's little 'Don't die on me' spiel she'd seemingly gotten it all out of her system because she didn't have a problem with it at all. Or so it appeared.

But him, on the other hand, was admittedly growing a little attached. And not just to her body.

For example, Callen and Sam had literally had to tackle him to the ground before he could kill a suspect that Kensi'd had to make out with to sustain her cover. He was about to bring up his forbidden behavior that night, but the way she'd nibbled his bottom lip and stroked him until he was painfully aroused was more than enough to shut him up because there was no way in hell he was saying anything that would provoke her to stop doing what she was doing.

After she got scrapped by a bullet while providing cover for him, however, it took a lot more than a few kisses and caresses to shut him up. He'd been so close to laying his heart out for her to deny or accept that she'd clasped her hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, warning him with a sharp, "Uh-uh," and a kiss to the neck that seemed to scream, _Say it and this is what you're going to be missing out on._ And thinking back to that night, he cursed.

Those damned rules were going to be the death of him, and he knew it.

* * *

**A/n Should I continue? Eh. IDK.  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	2. Chapter 2

"When are you going to do one of your exotic dance recitals for me, huh?"

"Sorry. I'm kind of expensive..."

She pretended to be disappointed and scowled. "Can I at least get a discount?"

"Maybe. I'll keep that in mind for your next birthday present because," he cleared his throat loudly, "I won't, oh I don't know, _forget it_!"

She sighed. "This again, really? Just open the damn box." She seemed to catch what she'd said a second too late and bit her lip because at this point she was well aware that, yes, he _did_ want to open the box. "Or, better yet, don't." She smiled seductively and for a minute he forgot all about the piece of cardboard sitting on a shelf in ops. He loved and hated all at the same time how she could do that to him, make his heart race with one glint of her teeth. "I'll make up your birthday eventually, just wait and see."

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she was straddling him, beer in hand, alcohol on her lips when she kissed him. It was an intoxicating mix, the booze and the sunshine, and sloppy, inebriated sex sounded excellent, but...

Then she eased his mouth open a little more, just enough to where she could flick her tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. And dammit if it didn't nearly undo his resistance. But right before he allowed his army of willpower to deteriorate and surrender to the extravagant creature that was wrapped around his body, he pulled back an inch, staring at her now tousled brown hair. _Stick to The Plan, Deeks._

That was right, The Plan. Operation Win Bad Ass Blye Over was in full swing. He was going to get her to admit her feelings towards him if it was the last thing he did. Even if that meant skipping out on sex every now and then, as much as it pained him.

He placed his hand on her white blouse, and he could just make out the pink belly button ring she was wearing. "I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie."

"Seriously, a movie over sex? What's gotten into you?"

Deeks grinned. "This isn't just 'a movie'. What you're referring to as simply 'a movie' happens to be Forrest Gump." He scoffed. "I'm ashamed, Kensi Blye. This is low, even for you."

"I've seen this movie a billion times. Poor Jenny. Shrimp can be prepared three hundred different ways. 'Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're going to get.'."

"You've seen it a billion times? So a billion and one won't hurt."

"You really piss me off."

He ignored her, throwing his arm around her shoulder on the couch. He wanted her to cuddle up with him, to curl against his chest, to let him pull her close. That was crossing boundaries. Damn, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how fucked up it was. They _slept __together-_ on a _regular basis- _and cuddling on the couch was a big no-no? _ What the hell? _

Oh yeah, he reminded himself bitterly as he all but shoved the movie into the DVD player. If they cuddled on the couch without it amounting to sex then they would be too much like a normal couple with normal feelings, God forbid.

"Damn Deeks. What did my DVD player ever do to you?" Kensi joked, tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth effortlessly. Deeks attempted to follow suit as he joined her on the couch again, but he was still so frustrated that he missed, eliciting one of the sexiest snorts he'd ever heard from Kensi. She patted his arm, grinning. "Good try."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

"Oooo. Somebody's not in a good mood. Sure you don't want to have sex?"

He seriously considered saying to hell with his mission, but shook his head to rid himself of the discouraging thoughts, stuttering as he spoke. "N-nope. Monty's going to be disappointed if he misses out on Tom Hanks. C'mere, boy," he called to the dog, needing the distraction from Kensi and her blouse that had the top three buttons undone, her dynamite body looking extremely doable in his peripheral.

The strictly sex relationship was nice, he had to admit. Nothing emotional or awkward or tense. It wasn't complex.

But what about when they wanted more? When Kensi's biological clock neared the end of its countdown? When they acted it would be too late, and then what? Neither of the two got what they wanted in life, all because they were scared- yes, scared- of taking it to the next level.

Feelings could be a bitch. That was no secret. And sleeping with somebody, no strings attached, was undeniably simple and enjoyable. But when it came right down to it, he cared about Kensi. He would lay down his life for her, any day, any hour, any minute. And he wanted her in every sense, not just physically. He desired her so badly it ached.

And that was exactly why he needed Monty as a cock block. _Thank God for dogs._

He thought back to the first time they'd had sex, how she'd regretted it immediately, sworn it was a mistake. And then it happened again. And again. And again. And suddenly, it was another unaddressed tier to their 'thing'.

Kensi eventually dozed off. Actually- he thought, eyeing the empty bottle of whiskey sitting next to her- she probably passed out. She'd always had a proneness to alcohol, but he'd noticed that lately she'd been drinking a lot more than usual. Not just an extra beer every now and then, no, she was practically mainlining it. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that it was a lot easier to keep up their emotionless facade inebriated. Spying a few liquidless beer bottles next to the dry bourbon pint, he figured he'd have to get her to cut back a little. He wouldn't come out and say, "You're drinking because you're trying to dull your feelings towards me," but when she was nearing the edge between sober and drunk, he would come up with something clever and/or charming, distract her, anything. Because if she did care about him as more than a partner, he figured that she wouldn't be able to drown out her unwelcome attraction. He knew he hadn't been able to. Might as well save her the trouble.

A loud snore pulled him out of his thoughts, and he laughed as he thought of her unwillingness to admit that she snored like the lovechild of a freight train and a vacuum cleaner. But the way her lips parted slightly and her nose twitched when she slept totally made up for the loudness of her snoring. And in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull her next to him and hold her while she slept, watch the calm rise and fall of her chest move against his heart.

He muttered an explicit under his breath, running an hand through his hair. Their relationship was killing him slowly, and he knew it.

His heart constricted and, OCD tendencies kicking in, he got up and started to pick up the remnants of popcorn and beer caps. He thought back to her house, how it always looked like a tornado had just hit it. He wondered what would happen if they ever moved in together, how they'd have to change. He'd have to loosen up a little on his borderline radical tidiness. She'd have to _at least_ learn how to work a washing machine. The idea of cooking her dinner, spooning every night in a bed that wasn't hers or his but theirs, jogging together first thing in the morning and, he glanced over at Kensi wistfully, cuddling on the damn sofa, was extremely appealing to him. The thought of such domesticity made his heart do a weird flippy thing that made him wonder if he was turning into a softy. Maybe he was. But- he reassured himself- only for Kensi Blye. He could be rock solid, made of steel, Chuck Norris at work and then, with one glance at Kensi, his heart would melt like butter. It kind of infuriated him, but all the same it was, to say to least, intriguing.

_And why are we not official yet?_ Official friends, official partners, official fuck buddies, only one thing left to do. And he was more than ready for it.

* * *

**A/n If you like this story, take your hat off to my amazing friend/beta Maddie aka NCISLAlover24 , who improves my stories tenfold :D Check out her story JitB, amazing Jack plot.  
Woah the reviews are like WOW amazing. Thanks so much, really. You guys are all perfect human beings!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	3. Chapter 3

She pulled away from him, inhaling sharply as she collapsed onto her stomach at his side. Another one of their implied rules was after sex, that was it. No cuddling, no loving gazes, nothing. She would simply curl onto her respective side of the bed and sleep, and he would usually stay up staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell they were doing. But not tonight.

When she made a cocoon with over half of the blankets and snuggled in, preparing herself for unconsciousness, a little voice in the back of his mind screamed _C'mon, Deeks. Grow a pair and get your dream girl, you scared little bastard._ So he steeled himself for the rejection he was nearly positive was coming and grabbed her wrist, flipping her so she lay facing him. He could make out the confusion and fear in her eyes as he kissed her forehead, pulling her naked body against his bare torso and stroking back her dark hair, soothing his hand up and down her spine.

She was tense and on edge, obviously trying to see if this fit into the Partners With Benefits protocol. She must've decided it didn't qualify because she placed her palm against his chest as if she was going to shove him away. "Deeks..." she all but growled.

"Kensi..." Deeks countered, mocking her tone. He could tell that pissed her off by the way she squirmed even more violently against him.

"What the hell?"

"What, you're not a cuddler?"

"No, not with you- just-" She shimmied out from under his bicep, casting him a sideways glance. "I think I'm going home."

He caught her hand, the no longer little voice in his head booming through his skull. _Come on, come on, come on._ "Please Kens, it's no big deal." He grinned crookedly, spreading his arms out. "You know you wanna."

Tentatively, she sat back on the bed, and Deeks ran his palm over her shoulder blade, tracing a path down her arm and interlocking his fingers with hers. He swept the hair from her neck and kissed a spot near her pulse, whispering into her ear, "Nothing better than a good old snuggle session. You always say my hairiness makes me look like a dog; it'll be just like cuddling with Monty, and I know you love that."

He watched the corners of her mouth perk into a smile which in turn made him grin. "Did you really just compare yourself to Monty willingly? You must really want this snuggle session."

He nodded against her neck, inhaling the scent of gunpowder residue and her shampoo that reminded him of the beach from the skin behind her ear. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her down with him, holding her close to his heart as he adjusted himself against her body. He loved the feeling of her hair fanning against his face, tickling his nose. And after a few minutes, her breathing evened. She was asleep.

He smiled to himself. This, this was improvement.

* * *

The next morning, he woke up to a peacefully resting Kensi sprawled half across his upper body, her arm stretched across his chest and her hair covering her face in a sloppy bedhead, and he figured that it was possibly the cutest he'd ever seen her. For just a second he could see a Kensi Blye who was barren the weight of her father's death, void of the year of her life spent living on the streets, free of any ex-fiancé's unwelcome memories.

He traced away a strand of dark hair, watching as her eyelids fluttered and opened, revealing gorgeous mismatched eyes, a rainbow of gold and amber and black and brown. Stunning.

She stretched and yawned, somehow reminding him of a kitten, and then adjusted her eyes to the light of early morning, stilling her actions as she noticed Deeks staring at her. "Take a picture. It'll last longer." His gaze didn't falter, and he reached out, caressing a piece of hair away. Kensi gulped. "What?"

"You're just beautiful, you know that?"

He watched her cheeks tinged pink, a soft blush creeping its way up her neck. "Umm... thanks, I guess." She narrowed her eyes. "What's gotten into you?"

"What, I can't tell you that you're beautiful?" he asked, smiling softly. "I'm just stating the facts."

She dropped her eyes and when she brought them up again they were a mix between wariness and confusion. "What's up with you all of a sudden?"

But she didn't give him time to reply, rolling out of bed and throwing one of his flannel shirts on, buttoning it up haphazardly. That had to be one of his favorite sights, Kensi Blye in his shirt. He frowned, sticking out his bottom lip. "What, is our snuggle session already over?"

She chose to ignore him, all but running out of the bedroom. He pulled on a pair of boxers and followed her, finding her standing at the coffee pot. "Any doughnuts?" she asked, avoiding his eyes. Out of all the times they'd slept together, the morning after was never tense or awkward. And while it wasn't necessarily awkward, Kensi definitely looked like she was out of her comfort zone.

"Nope. Sorry. I'm cutting you off."

She sighed, pouring a cup of coffee that smelled extremely strong and looked almost pitch black. She drank it without as much as a cringe. "Want a cup?" she offered, pulling the scorching hot liquid away from her lips momentarily.

He widened his eyes, incredulous. "How can you even drink that?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

He watched distastefully as Kensi drank her coffee, crossing his arms across his chest. "Pancakes?" he offered, still eyeing her drink. "You're going to need something to get the taste of that stuff you're drinking out of your mouth."

"'That stuff you're drinking'?"

"It's not even considered coffee."

She shrugged. "Fine. Do the ones with the cinnamon and chocolate chips."

"Can I get a please?"

She ignored him, stretching and rolling kinks out of her neck. "I'm taking a shower."

He raised an eyebrow suggestively, smiling. "Can I join?"

Checking the clock, she shook her head. "Not enough time. Plus, you have to make pancakes."

"I have to?"

"Absolutely."

With that, she walked off, dropping the flannel in the hamper by the laundry room on the way. He allowed his eyes to follow her, watching as she closed herself in the bathroom, and he couldn't help but think she was trying to get away from him. She seemed uneasy, conflicted even. He knew if he asked she wouldn't come right out and state the obvious, which was that him being all touchy with her aside from sex wasn't acceptable. He could sense that she was putting up walls but didn't know whether to back off a bit or push just a little more, just enough to make her confront it and tell him what the problem was, why she wasn't willing to give him a chance. He wanted something healthy and normal and _dammit, _he wanted it with Kensi.

He heard the hair dryer click on, his queue. The now finished pancakes sat on a plate for Kensi, stacked in a pile of three with orange juice and bacon. Her favorite. See, prime example- he thought- he already knew her inside and out, better than any other guy ever would (at least, that's what he liked to tell himself). Some nagging, insecure part in the back of his mind asked him regularly and persistently, _What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if she wants the future she used to talk so much about, just not with you?_

He shook his head, trying to clear his discouraging thoughts, kissing Kensi on the cheek as he walked past where she was doing her hair and makeup at the sink before climbing in the shower. She froze at the feel of his scruff on her cheek but didn't look at him, applying her lipstick with her mouth in a tight line.

He forced himself to shrug it off, making an over dramatic show of pulling off his boxers, which did elicit a smile from Kensi, if minuscule. He hopped in the shower, proceeding to inform Kensi that he was going to serenade her the whole time. And, ignoring the pleas from Kensi begging him not to, true to his word he screamed out every single lyric to "Ice Ice Baby" and then took it up a notch to "Total Eclipse of the Heart".

Half way through "No Diggity", she yelled over the running water, "Oh my God Deeks, you are so weird. This is like Glee gone wrong. You know what? I can't even handle you right now. I am finishing my makeup _in peace._"

She huffed as she left, and he chuckled, calling out, "Oh come on Sugar Bear! Don't be like that! Who will I sing to now?"

She didn't even glance behind her as she left.

* * *

He got out of the shower and pulled on his clothes which consisted of a blue t-shirt and jeans, exactly what he'd seen in Kensi's overnight bag the night before. He knew their matching outfits pissed her off, and flustered Kensi was insanely adorable. Until she started hitting him. He shuddered at the thought of the violence that was sure to come and considered changing, but changed his mind at the last second, deciding that a punch or two would be worth their corresponding ensemble.

She was devouring his plate of pancakes when he walked into the kitchen, her serving long gone. "Hey!" he cried indignantly, and she looked up innocently, leaving the fork hanging in midair momentarily before continuing to eat his food with a shrug.

He pulled the plate away from her with a scowl, noticing that over half of his food was gone. _Seriously?_ "Kensssiii!" he groaned. "I make you food and you eat yours _and_ mine? That is so rude. I'm very disappointed in you."

She had the decency to look borderline guilty. "They were really good..."

"Yeah." He held up the remaining half of one of his pancakes. "I'd like to have been the judge of that myself."

"Fine. I guess I owe you lunch."

"No, you most definitely owe me lunch. I try to do something from the bottom of my heart and this is what I get?"

"I'm _sorry_," she huffed. "What do you want me to do, puke them up for you?"

"Okay, okay. Apology accepted." He frowned, looking at his scrawny breakfast unhappily. "Kind of."

Once he was done eating, which took about thirty seconds since there was hardly any food left, he threw the dishes in the sink and checked the clock. "If we leave now we'll make it right on time."

"I'm always on time. You, on the other hand..."

"Fashionably late."

She raised an eyebrow, stretching as she stood up. "Right. And what did I say about wearing the same clothes as me?" she asked, groaning when she noticed what he was wearing.

He didn't answer her, turning around when they were almost out the door, kissing her full on the lips. She stood in the doorway for a split second, neither kissing him back nor pulling away, before she turned her head, his lips coming up short. He immediately missed her taste and the feel of her lips but didn't test his luck with another, judging by the look on her face that it probably wouldn't be the best course of action. She looked shocked and taken aback, not to mention a whirlwind of other emotions he couldn't even begin to place.

"Stop it with the kissing and the touching, Deeks," she all but growled, her hands curling into fists.

"What, you eat all of my food and I don't even get a-"

"I'm serious! Just stop it."

He leaned against the door, blocking her way, crossing his hands over his chest. "Why? Most people would love to have all of this." Yeah, serious wasn't going to work for him. But- he figured- she was probably used to it.

"Not now, we're going to be late."

"Kens-"

"C'mon," she muttered, shoving past him and walking outside.

_Well, that didn't go as well as I thought. _Then again, he didn't really know how he'd expected her to react.

He'd spent all morning trying to diffuse the night before and it'd turned out awfully. But he couldn't help pushing, trying to get her to return his feelings. He told himself that he could be patient whenever he needed to, so instead of letting her get to him too much he focused on rendering his tactics, designing his game plan. Subtlety was his best friend. Baby steps, he told himself. One way or another, he had to win her over.

* * *

**A/n Thanks for all the reviews/alerts! Glad you guys like it! Love you guys!  
Thanks to Maddie, as always, for the proof!  
Anyone interested in co-writing this with me? I'll fill you in on the details if you leave a review or PM me saying you're interested.  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n Thanks Maddie (NCISLAlover24) for the beta as usual and Jkaur24 for the help with this chapter! You guys should check out their stories!  
And as always, you readers make my life! Love ya'll!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**

* * *

Marty Deeks had experienced a lot of tough days in his lifetime. Cases, difficult exes, defendants that were virtually impossible to defend, the works. The day he'd just had to suffer through probably made it onto the top ten of his list titled 'The Shittiest of Shitty Days'.

Between an extremely pissed Kensi, enough case files that could have saved a small rainforest had the trees not been manufactured into squared sheets of paper, and his grumbling stomach due to lack of breakfast and lunch having to have been skipped because of an extremely boring cold case, he felt like he was about to explode. He thinks he would have had Hetty dismissed them a second later than she did.

"Fern, wait up. I have the keys, remember?" he reminded her, dangling the chain for proof. He could've sworn he saw her scowl, but he ignored it, following close behind her.

When he caught up with her at the car, she was waiting impatiently with her arms across her chest. "Dinner?" he offered, watching her reaction from the corner of his eyes.

"No."

"One word answers, that's how you're going to play it?"

She ignored him, walking around to her side of the car and sliding in, her mismatched irises narrowed. "Aw, c'mon, Sunshine. What do I have to do to make it up to you?"

Silence.

_Dammit._

It was weird to him how most situations would be awkward had it been any other girl. With Kensi, Kick Ass Killer Kensi, his Kensi, she was furious. He reminded himself to look up her zodiac, see if dealing with situations with anger was one of her traits. At least then he could blame the stars.

"Fine. I'm hungry. You can wait in the car if you want, suit yourself, but I'm getting some food."

"Just go somewhere with alcohol," she grumbled, taking down her hair, falling dramatically against the passenger's seat and closing her eyes. He didn't blame her; despite the awful start to their morning, any sane person would be in a bad mood after _that_ kind of work day. Even though he was supposed to be cutting her off from booze, she wasn't the only one who wanted a drink, preferably something strong. So he let it be, turning on the radio which she immediately changed to an alternative station.

"Hey, it's my radio day," he huffed, spinning the dial to something decent.

She changed it back.

_What the hell, why not?_ he thought, too braindead to put up much of a fight.

When they arrived at the restaurant slash bar, Deeks' head was buzzing with alternative music and the sound of Kensi's breath which had evened out, a telltale sign she'd fallen asleep. And sure enough, when he looked over her eyes were closed, head against the window. He considered leaving her be in the car, deciding against it mostly because drinking alone was depressing. "Light of my life, wakey wakey. We're here."

Her eyes fluttered open and after a flash of adorable confusion, she glowered. "What did I say about the nicknames?"

"Sorry, Fern."

* * *

Deeks had left no room for tension the whole night, and pretty soon she gave up on her anger, allowing him to talk and flirt (casually, of course) and joke with her until she was so drunk she could hardly keep her head up. He'd planned on being the one to drink a lot that night and her being the designated driver, but after two mojitos on her part that plan had fell through. He didn't mind about the driving, really, but he wished she would cut back on the alcohol. If she kept going at the rate she was he knew that there could be some bad consequences later down the road.

When she stumbled up the stairs of his apartment, groggy and about to pass out, he was there to catch her, keeping a firm arm around her waist. "Kens, you gotta cut back on your alcohol. It's not healthy. I can hear your liver screaming."

"Whatever."

He was tempted to counter with, 'No, not _whatever,' _but decided against it. After all, he couldn't go back in time and force her to drink less. No use in pestering her about it now, now that she was hammered beyond belief. "Want a change of clothes?"

"I know where they are."

"Want any help?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, suggestive, though it was a serious offer. She would never admit it, but she was the clumsiest drunk he'd ever met in his life. And right now, she was well past simply 'drunk'.

"I don't need any help."

"I didn't ask if you need any help," he said, smirking. What did she think, he was born yesterday? Of course she didn't need any help. She never needed assistance, never ever. Stubborn, hard headed, rock solid, infuriating Kensi Blye, never broke her reputation.

"I don't _want_ any help either," she said with a huff. Too drunk for sex. Never a good sign.

After fifteen or so minutes (an extremely long time to just pull on one of his shirts and some shorts that barely covered her ass) and a lot of loud bangs and slurred curses coming from the direction of the bedroom, she finally came out, stumbling onto the couch and landing in a heap. "Beer?" she asked.

"No," he answered patiently, dragging it out as one might do with an impatient child. Which, in hindsight, was a mistake. Kensi Blye did not like or appreciate being babied.

She huffed, turning herself so that her head hung off of the couch. "You're upside down," she stated matter-of-factly.

"You're bombed."

"Maybe a little. But you're still upside down."

"Okay."

She furrowed her brow, seemingly deep in thought, her dark eyes staring upwards, looking at the carpet. "How long does it take for all the blood in your body to rush to your head?"

"I don't know, Kensi."

"Do you think if you waited long enough blood would come out of your ears?"

"You're Wikipedia, you tell me."

She pulled herself up using only her abdominal strength, sitting against the couch with her head back. "I don't really want to find out. Want to know why I don't want to find out?"

"Why?" he asked, playing along. Tipsy Kensi was hilarious, adorable, definitely one of the greatest things in the world. He took a seat next to Kensi, inches away from her.

"Because A: if blood happened to come out of my ears, that would be a big mess, and B: I'm really drunk." She laughed, pulling her feet onto the cushion. "Like, really drunk. Nausea. Headache. The norm."

He raised an eyebrow. "Since when have messes mattered to you? I'd be the one cleaning it up, anyways."

She pursed her lips. "Probably. But- wanna know something? I don't like blood. Never have."

He paused, thoughtful. That he hadn't known. "You're around it a lot at work."

"Doesn't mean I like it."

"I guess I don't, either."

She grinned, white teeth sparkling. "See, just when you think you know it all about somebody, bam! Something like that happens."

"You think you know everything about me?" he asked, curious.

She thought for second, shaking her head with finality. "No. I don't know everything, but I know a lot. I know you the best."

"The best?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

He smiled, incredulous. "Coming from Ms. What Will Happen If I Let All Of My Blood Rush To My Head."

"Touché."

"_That _is what you call a touché."

"Yeah, yeah. I realize that, no need to get all cocky."

"So... the best?" he asked again, wanting clarification.

"I just meant I know you better than anyone, I think. Favorite food, color, where you're from, if you season your food before or after you taste it, stupid stuff. I know way too much, if you ask me."

He tried to hide how ecstatic her revelation had made him, grinning like a madman. Okay, so she knew him inside and out, too. That was one thing that wasn't one sided. "Am I clogging up your brain?"

She groaned, though she couldn't stop smiling goofily, a smile that made him want to pull out his camera and capture it, put it in a frame. "Ugh, yes. Deeks everywhere."

"Sorry about that."

She shrugged like it was no big deal. "I'm not."

_You're not?_ A burst of hope illuminated his train of thought for a second, making it impossible for him to find the tracks. He finally stuttered over his next words, cautious, "You're not?"

"Not really," she said, but it was mumbled. Her eyes were closed. Her head lolled to the side. She was asleep on his shoulder, sunshine shampoo radiating off of her hair, assaulting his nostrils. He leaned in slightly, tried not to wake her as he inhaled, savouring the moment.

When she was long gone in an alcohol induced sleep, his own eyes growing weary, he gently lifted her up, carrying her bridal-style to the bedroom. And even though he would receive more hell than Satan himself had experienced in his lifetime (after-lifetime? he pondered absently), it was something he was willing to endure. As long as he had that night, snuggled next to Kensi, her head subconsciously nuzzling against his chest, nothing mattered except for the present, past and future be damned.


	5. Chapter 5

Kensi was (predictably) agitated beyond belief to find out she'd woke up in Deeks' arms. The improvement from the night before was replaced with annoyance, the bricks in the wall she constructed molded together with fury. In typical Kensi Blye fashion, she was pissed.

He didn't push her. How could he after what happened last time? So when she resorted to the silent treatment, he simply slid a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water across the dinner table, not expecting a reply. She looked a little green, and considering she probably drank the bar out of vodka last night, it was understandable. He counted that she'd thrown up five or so times and it wasn't even noon, and she seemed to have a killer cottonmouth because she kept downing glass after glass of water. He was just glad they didn't have work because it was a Sunday. A hangover from hell and paperwork from the same place did not mix, like putting your coke before your whiskey.

When she shoved away her breakfast, he wondered if she was expressing her resentment towards him by hunger striking. He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, afraid to break the silence.

"I don't feel like eating," she supplied shortly.

"It's go-o-o-od," he insisted, his voice a chirping melody.

She shrugged, laying her hand against her forehead.

He glanced up from his food, knowing that she would hate what he was about to ask. "You okay?"

"Fine," she answered abruptly, not looking up.

"Listen Kens, I'm worried about you. You need to cut back on the alcohol-"

"Last time I checked it wasn't up to you to decide what I do or don't do with my own body. Not yours, mine."

Kensi loved control. Always had. And though it bothered Deeks, he knew it was part of who she was and he had to except it, despite how he felt about it.

She huffed, defiant. "And I don't understand why you're complaining since you seem to love it when I'm drunk."

"You fell asleep on my shoulder..."

"Not wrapped up in your arms!"

"What do you want me to say, Kens? I'm sorry for cuddling with my girlfriend?"

"I am _not _your girlfriend."

"Yeah, then what do you call it?"

"Partners! That's it! That's what we've always been and always will be." The words felt like a knife to his gut, and then she decided to twist the blade. Kicking a man while he was down was cruel but oddly effective. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want to go out with you?"

He tried not to let her words get to him and swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. "Want to know what I think?"

"Not particularly."

"There's a surprise," he spat out sarcastically, borderline bitterly. He continued anyways, the frustration he'd pent up over the last few months bubbling to the surface. "I think that you're afraid. You're scared, Kensi. You're scared I'll leave you, isn't that right? Just like Jack." She flinched. She literally flinched.

He lowered his voice which had slowly risen in audibility, realizing he'd almost been shouting. He caught her hand on the table and she looked away, pulling it out of his grasp as soon as he got a grip. "Kens, I'm not Jack."

She looked up at him, outrage pooling in her eyes. "You have no idea, Deeks." He wanted to ask _No idea about what?_ but didn't, steadying his gaze with hers. "You just crossed a line."

She stood up from the table, slamming her water down so hard he thought she'd broken the glass. He followed her, grabbing her arm in two swift strides as she marched to the door. "Kensi!"

And then she turned around, livid, and he stood his ground even though he wanted to cower away, expecting a punch. What she did left him confused and dumb struck, and he fumbled to wrap his arms around her as he registered what was happening. She was kissing him, her arms flying around his neck, holding him in a deadlock like a vice, irate. He pulled back for a split second, trying to convey what he was feeling without saying anything. _What the hell, Kensi?_

She lunged for another kiss, and he complied, savoring the way she felt and tasted. If he didn't think about it, he could easily pretend the infuriation in her embrace was passion. Until he did think about it and comprehended just how wrong their relationship was.

He placed a hand on the nape of her neck, again putting space between her mouth and his. "Will things be any different afterwards?" he wanted to know, watching her eyes, which had been half closed in desire, widen and flash with an unreadable emotion.

She gave her head a slight shake, and he felt raw disappointment settle in the pit of his stomach. He should be used to it by now, he knew.

He wondered what he should do. No, he knew what he should do. He wondered what he _would_ do. _Stick to the game plan. You two aren't getting anywhere with this game you keep playing_, the logical, more than likely correct side of his mind told him. But the one opposite to it, the one that was human and painfully aware that he had a breathless Kensi Blye pressed against him, told him not to resist.

He gave up. Just for a few hours. He let her have her beloved control, let her get her way again. And when she didn't even spare him a glance as she left him alone in his bed once again, he told himself he should've known better. But the fact that he should've been stronger, should've expected her to react as she did, didn't help the calamity of his defeat.

* * *

It didn't hit him until he went surfing later that day that he had absolutely no idea how he was going to get to Kensi. Sure, she loved her coffee and she loved her doughnuts, but he didn't want to buy her love. It didn't feel right. He figured that even if he tried to it wouldn't work. Maybe with any other girl it would. Not Kensi.

He sighed, spotting her on the beach, Monty wagging his tail beside her. She was gleaming with tanning oil and laying on her stomach, cheek smooshed against the beach towel, hair draped over one shoulder. He thought it was pretty obvious that he loved her, so it wasn't so much that she couldn't see it. Denial, maybe? No, he was pretty sure she'd come to terms with the fact that he wanted more with her. Funny that less than a year ago he thought after there was sex in a relationship there was nothing more to get. Now he knew that that wasn't the case by a longshot.

So, what? What was it? She had to love him back deep down, right? Maybe just a little? _No?_

A wave interrupted his thoughts, sending him crashing into the ocean. _Dammit._ He'd been staring at Kensi again. The distraction of all distractions. This whole lovesick thing wasn't working for him.

* * *

**A/n Thanks so much for all the support you guys! Any ideas as to how you'd like to see Deeks win Kensi over? What you want to see next chapter? Constructive criticism? I LOVE YOU!  
Thanks Maddie! As always, check out Jack in the Box!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n Hola! So let me start out by saying I don't own anything except for the plot, and thanks to Maddie for the proof! Also, thanks to xnothinghere for being a good little plot bunny.  
Speaking of plot bunnies- White Bishop. Oh. My. God. You have NO idea how helpful your reviews have been. I'm dead serious, too. In reference to your most recent review, I'll play around with the idea you gave me! Sorry, this was already started before I got your input, which, as always, was extremely contributive. Have you considered getting an account? I'd love to talk with you!  
Thanks to EVERYBODY! I love you all with a passion!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**

* * *

"Wow."

"And you wanted to get Mexican food instead," he teased lightly, turning a full 360 to take in the view.

"Where are we?" she asked, staring in awe at the cascading water.

"Whiskeytown lake waterfall. Nice, right?"

"Very."

"And," he added with a wry grin, "the name's appropriate, considering your drinking as of late."

She ignored him, dropping her pack and shimmying out of her jeans, revealing a bikini bottom. "Think the water's cold?"

He followed her to the water's edge, shrugging. "I don't know. Want to find out?"

"What?"

He grinned, splashing her with water which, by the way, was indeed freezing.

She gasped in outrage, trying to splash him back before she toppled over the edge of the bank they were on, losing her footing.

"Kens!" he yelled, grabbing her arm a second too late. His heart stopped for a second, but luckily she'd just landed on her butt, sitting on another rock a few inches under the water. He exhaled loudly, thanking whoever was listening that she hadn't busted her head open. Some date that would've been.

"Oww!" she exclaimed, glaring at Deeks and wading up to where he still stood, splashing him until he was soaking wet.

"That looked painful. You want me to check to make sure you didn't break anything?"

"What, check my ass? No thank you. Speaking of asses, get yours in the water now before I come out there and drag you in."

"Eager much?" he asked, but he peeled off his shirt anyway, and Kensi whistled comically. He laughed. "That's my line."

As soon as he was in the water, Kensi was in front of him, laying her palm flat against his abdomen. As her hand drifted southwards, he caught her wrist, shuddering. "Woah there, Nelly. This is public property, remember?"

"That didn't seem to stop you last week in the supply closet at the movies."

Her fingers, drawing dangerously close to his _nom de plumes_, inched closer still. "Tha-at was a, uh, one t-time thing," he stuttered, clenching his jaw as he focused on paying attention to what she was saying and comprehending her words, his focus on her actions clouding his mind.

"Can we make it a two time thing?"

"Uhhhh... Uh-uh." The he repeated himself, more certain. "Uh-uh."

"Fine. Your loss."

He swallowed thickly. "Yeah."

He watched as she turned away from him, the mist from the waterfall frizzing her hair around the edges, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil he'd just faced. "Kens?" he called, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

She turned, expectant. "Yeah?"

Taking a chance, he grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. "C'mon." However, she didn't follow him, her eyes skeptic as she peered at their touching hands. He shrugged as if it was no big deal, even though, in actuality, it was to him. "It's slippery," he explained, guiding her deeper into the water and closer to the roaring falls.

Her hand was cold and slippery in his, and he wanted to pull her icy body against his, hold her as they let the falling water incase them. But he didn't. Instead, he sent a wave of water her way with his arm, laughing as she squeaked indignantly.

"Hey!" she laughed, pouncing on him. Pretty soon he was under the water, spouting water out of his mouth and onto her face as soon as he resurfaced. The water was deeper in the middle of where the waterfall's downpour landed, forming a small lake that consisted of slippery rocks and fallen leaves, perfect for horsing around. Not to mention, it wasn't busy at all. Most people preferred Yosemite's waterfalls, and though this one was much smaller, there was something almost sublime about it.

In no time they were both soaking wet and breathless, stomachs aching from laughing so hard. Deeks smiled, content. _Waterfalls? Check._ They stood in close proximity, and he caught her eyes for a split second, watching as her grin faded and her cheeks tinged pink, irises dropping from his gaze. He gently lifted her chin with his fingers, noticing how close their faces were, mouths mere centimeters apart. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head, his nose brushing hers in the process, bringing a finger to rest on her lips much like he had done before, except this time it was a softer action, an action that spoke volumes. His heart pounded as he leaned in, planning on kissing the spring water off of her lips. And when he was millimeters away from doing just that, Kensi turned her head, his lips coming up short against her cheek.

She cleared her throat, backing away. "It's, uh, getting late. We should probably head back."

He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in, running a hand through his hair. "Kensi..."

"Stop it, Deeks. Let's just go back to your place, okay?"

* * *

She would hardly look at him the whole ride home, her mouth a tight line. He tried to strike up conversation, but her one word answers were starting to piss him off.

"So that band you like came off of hiatus."

"Yep."

"What was their name again? Fall Out Boy?"

"Uh-huh."

"Hey, I saw this talk show with Tyra Banks. I know you like Top Model. Do you watch it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"Because," she confirmed, eyes never leaving the road.

"Okay..." he said, agitated. After a few painful minutes of the only sound being that of tires on pavement, he frowned. "Kens, listen-"

"Stop-"

"No, I won't _stop_! Just talk to me! Why won't you let me kiss you?"

"We kiss all the time. You can kiss me at your house as much as you want," she answered simply, shrugging.

"I don't want to- I want to kiss you, but-" He couldn't put it into words, and it frustrated to hell out of him. "I don't want to have sex every single time we kiss," he finished lamely, mentally admonishing himself.

"Why not?"

_Did she seriously just ask 'Why not'?_ "You know damn well 'Why not'!" he exclaimed, outraged. "Because I-"

"Don't say that, Deeks," she growled, her knuckles whitening as they tightened around the steering wheel.

"Why not? It's the truth, Kensi! I love-"

"Shut up!" she screamed, and suddenly the car was swerving off of the road, the seat belt clenching as his chest jerked forward. Before he knew it his arm was flying towards Kensi, and he felt it crack, its break making a sickening sound.

"Kensi!" he screamed, his heart catching in his throat, ignoring the pain radiating through his arm. "Kens..."

She looked fine, except for the fact that her eyes had widened in shock and fear, staring down at his arm which was against her torso, the only thing separating her body from the airbag. Her seat belt hadn't constricted like it was supposed to. His arm had been the only thing holding her back. "Deeks, your arm!" She sounded nearly hysterical, and he looked at the damage done for the first time.

He cringed. "Nothing a sling won't fix."

"What's the matter with you?! Why did you do that, Deeks?" Suddenly there were tears tracking her face, her hands ghosting his broken limb that laid limp in her lap.

"Are you okay, Kensi? What is it? Are you hurt?" Concern bubbled in his chest, and he unbuckled his belt with the hand on his good arm.

"Dammit, Deeks, I'm fine. Why are you so... so..."

"Infuriating?" he supplied, trying to force a grin that felt more like a grimace.

"Why do you care so much?" she finally finished quietly, trailing her fingers down his bicep. "No matter what I do..."

"Kensi, hey, it's okay." He tried to console her, wanting to wipe away her tears but afraid to move too much because of his injury.

"You're not supposed to be the one taking care of me! You have a broken arm, for God's sake!" She sniffled and swiped at her tears, boiling with anger that was immediately replaced with worry. "Your arm..."

"I've had worse," he assured her, biting his lip against the pain. "Can you, uh, call 911, though?" he asked, his limb throbbing.

She nodded mutely, flipping out her cell, telling the dispatcher what happened and where they were. They forced her to stay on the line until they showed up, insisting that Deeks ride in an ambulance to the hospital. In turn, Kensi demanded that she make the trip with him, sitting by his gurney the whole way, head in her hands.

When the doctors told her that he would have to be taken into surgery, she felt her heart plummet into her stomach. She peered over at Deeks, now being transferred off of the ambulance and onto another stretcher that would be wheeled into the hospital.

"How bad is it?"

"As far as arm injuries go, it's not the worst we've seen. It could require mild physical therapy depending on how it heals after surgery, nothing major."

She nodded, not allowing herself to be relieved yet. What the hell had he been thinking? How had he even had time to think? That was just it; he hadn't been thinking. That he had seemingly subconsciously guarded her was bothersome to say the least. It had been instinct for him to protect her. And that's what pissed her off the most.


	7. Chapter 7

When the anaesthetics were finally wearing off, his hazy vision finally manifested into something he could identify. Kensi Blye, arms folded across her chest, bags masking the skin beneath her eyes. He hadn't been awake three seconds and she was already leaning forward, hand on the bicep that was unscathed.

"Deeks."

"Hey, Fern. You better not've eaten my jello this time."

She ignored him, her eyebrows knitting together. "Anything hurt? Do you need a nurse?"

"Relax. It's just a broken arm."

She blew out a breath, her chest falling as she exhaled. "Deeks, I am so sorry. I should've paid more attention to the road." Her face was fortified with guilt, the color drained from her it.

He adjusted himself in a sitting position, placing a hand on her cheek. "It's not your fault. I was the one yelling at you. I'm sorry."

She placed her hand over his and lowered it off of her face, lying it gently on his lap. He tried not to let his disappointment show.

"Please, don't apologize," she all but begged, her eyes pleading. Then her expression melted into worry, something so prominent that it caught him off guard. "We have to stop fighting," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kensi Blye was not a beggar. Seeing her this stricken and desperate was not something he was used to. "Okay." He nodded, never breaking eye contact. "Whatever you need."

* * *

"Dammit!" he cursed as the coffee cup and container of coffee grounds he'd been trying to balance in one hand fell to the floor.

Kensi darted into the kitchen at the sound, not looking annoyed in the slightest at the mess he had made. She'd had a lot more patience with him since he broke his arm. He knew it was because she blamed herself. No matter how many times he assured her that she wasn't the one at fault, she blocked him out, her face always expressionless, her eyes always blank.

"And you call me clumsy," she joked, grabbing a broom.

He mumbled a quiet apology under his breath as she swept up the remainders of the mug and the coffee grounds, and she shrugged. "If I had a dollar for everytime you picked up my messes when I was drunk," she started, "I'd be living on a deserted island with Puerto Rican swimsuit models."

Once the mess was disposed of, Kensi handed him a fresh cup of coffee. "There. No harm done."

"What's gotten into you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile. "You feeling okay?"

"What?"

"You're just so... nice now. I should break my arm more often."

"You saying I wasn't nice before?"

He pretended to think about it before answering with a grin, "Yes."

She rolled her eyes. "C'mon. We're going to be late for work."

* * *

After an excruciatingly lengthy day, Deeks collapsed on his couch. The pills he was taking were making him tired, and he watched through sleepy eyes as Kensi grabbed a beer from the fridge. She sat down next to him, handing him one of the burgers they'd picked up.

"Hungry?"

"Not really," he admitted, curling his feet onto the couch.

"Ah," she said, her tone one of recognition. "Tired." It was more of a statement then a question.

"Yeah."

He repositioned his sling and winced, staring at Kensi's beverage longingly. He couldn't drink alcohol with the medication he was taking. Desk duty was not treating him well. "I could go for one of those," he said, gesturing towards her drink.

She shook her head. "Uh-uh. Doctors said no alcohol. Speaking of which, you need to take your pills."

"Alright, just go put on your moderately slutty nurse uniform and I'll be waiting."

She laughed, taking a drag of her drink, discarding her nearly untouched burger. Ever since the crash she'd cut back on her drinking a tiny bit so she could help Deeks to her full extent. It was one of the good things that had came out of the whole ordeal.

"It's not like you have a broken leg," she joked, getting his prescriptions from the medicine cabinet anyways.

Deeks frowned. "I was just kidding. You didn't have to do that."

"If it was me, you'd do the exact same thing. And you'd probably do it better, at that."

Deeks smiled, his face lighting up in a goofy stupor. "You always know the right things to say."

She shook her head before sobering a little, raising an eyebrow. "You, uh, you need me to stay tonight?"

Kensi had been sleeping on the couch since the accident just in case Deeks needed help with anything. Not that he needed much help, if any. It was just a broken arm, after all. But she didn't need to know that. He liked having her around, and he knew it made her feel less guilty to be able to do something to redeem herself because (in her mind, at least) since she was the one driving, she was the one that put him into his predicament.

He wanted her to stay. He wanted her to climb into bed with him and kiss him goodnight, cuddle close to his heart. But that wasn't going to happen. "You can go home if you want," he assured her, taking off his shirt with one hand, a skill he'd acquired over the last few weeks.

"It's fine, I'm serious. Need anything else?"

_Who would've known- Kensi Blye's caring. _He figured she'd gotten really good at the whole caretaker thing with Jack, and if she was this good with a relatively minor injury, he wondered just how patient she used to be. It was hard to imagine a full time, nurturing Killer Kensi. He was definitely experiencing something rare, and he was loving every second of it.

"What do you know, tin woman's got a heart."

"Funny," she stated dryly, grabbing a knit throw from atop the couch and covering herself up with it. "Night. You need me, you know where to find me."

He stared at her for a second, pursing his lips before saying as genuinely as he could, "Thank you, Kensi."

She shook her head, looking him dead in the eyes. "You don't have to thank me, Deeks. This is what partners are for. Especially partners that broke your arm in the first place."

_Partners partners partners._ As always, just partners.

"It wasn't your-"

"Nighty night, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite."

He conjured a half smile, watching as Kensi closed her eyes and snuggled against the couch. "Night, Kens."

* * *

**A/n Thank you guys, as always. It took a little longer for me to update, sorry :)  
Thanks Maddie! You rock!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	8. Chapter 8

"I tried my best, therefore thou shall not criticize."

"_Kensi_," he huffed, exasperated. "I think you murdered my taste buds. Look, even Monty won't eat it."

She pouted her bottom lip, obviously doing her best puppy impersonation. "You really don't like it?"

"No."

"I put my blood, sweat, and tears into that spaghetti."

"Now that you mention it, blood, sweat, and tears would account for some of the taste... Oh my God. Please, _please _don't tell me that was spaghetti."

She stared at the plate of... noodles (_we'll go with that_), giving it one good, long look before laughing. "It was pretty awful, wasn't it?"

"Sorry, Princess. But yeah."

He saw her smile, but it was off. Sad? Upset? Disappointed?

He wanted to lay a hand on her jaw, reassure her. But he resisted, telling himself not to push.

"You know, the pasta was cooked, which counts for something. And... and the fact that you wanted to cook for me definitely gets some bonus points, Ms. Domesticity."

She rolled her eyes, trying and failing to hide her grin.

"And as soon as I get my arm back to normal, you can make the noodles from now on and I'll make the sauce. Partners, right?"

She shook her head softly, seemingly recovered from her momentary ambivalence. "Now let me guess; you're going to play heroine and fix me some waffles, showing off with one arm?"

"You know me so well."

Okay, so maybe waffle making with one hand wasn't as easy as he'd thought. Unwilling to admit to Kensi that he couldn't exactly crack an egg one handed, much less cook the damn things, he turned away from her expectant face.

That's what killed him about Kensi- she didn't doubt him. Never had. Whether it was an issue of providing cover in the field, backing her undercover, having her six, or something as meaningless as preparing her coffee the right way, she had the uttermost faith in him that he would do it right. He found her reliance in him unnerving, the constant worry of letting her down looming over him wherever he went, but it was also flattering to say the least. What was a partnership without trust?

Not wanting to disappoint but also wanting to inch her closer to being okay with going out in public with him off of the job, he decided to kill two birds with one stone, recalling an outing they went on a few years back before the Partners With Benefits ordeal went into effect.

"I'm not really in the mood for breakfast for dinner. I'm having this weird craving for that salmon I got at the Crustacean the last time we went together."

He prayed that he didn't find skepticism in her eyes. The last time they'd went they'd been just partners, so he hoped that she would take that into consideration, prayed that she wouldn't call him out on his poorly disguised attempt at asking her on a date.

She raised an eyebrow. "Cravings? Is it that time of the month again?"

"Ha ha. So that's a yes?"

Sighing, she played with the end of her braid, rolling the tip between her fingers as she mulled over his offer. "Nowhere in that sentence did I say 'Yes'. It wasn't even implied."

"So that's a... no?"

"I didn't say that."

"So it's a yes. Gotcha."

"You are so infuriating."

"You're the one who won't give me a straight answer," Deeks countered, defiant.

"Fine. You want Crustacean, fine."

"Seriously?" That had been relatively easier than he'd thought.

"Did I stutter?"

He probably should've teased her about how willing she seemed to go out with him, but he didn't want to test his luck. She brushed his arm as she walked to the counter to retrieve her car keys. "Don't get too excited. I'm really hungry, that's all. And who would give up a free meal at the Crustacean?"

Studying her, he tried not to let her statement get to him too much. They were going out to a nice restaurant with people who would automatically assume they were a couple. That was enough for him.

For the time being, anyway.

* * *

He never had been a fan of fancy restaurants. The snarky upper class usually frowned upon his hair and scruff, obviously thinking something along the lines of 'Who the hell let in the overdressed hobo?'

Steeling himself, he inhaled deeply before ringing her doorbell.

"Woah, Kens..."

In front of him, Kensi had adorned her body with a skin tight purple dress, short and clinging to all of the right places. Her hair, wavy, framed her face, fell against her shoulders.

"You're gorgeous." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he held his breath as he waited for her to react, watching the way her cheeks tinged pink and her eyes dropped.

She mumbled something under her breath, maybe an inaudible, 'Thanks,' before smirking, apparently recovering from the momentary tension. "Yeah, you don't look so bad yourself, you know, for a stray dog."

"What a burn! How do you even come up with such insults? You are one special snowflake, Kensi Marie Blye."

Despite herself, she grinned. "You ready? I just need to grab the leash, then I'm good to go."

"You are just on fire, aren't you? I bet you're feeling _really_ clever right now."

"We're taking my car. And I'm driving."

"Fine, you can drive, but no Panic! At the Disco."

She opened her mouth to say something, but Deeks cut her off. "Or Paramore."

"Or My Chemical Romance. Or Three Days Grace. Or All Time Low."

He continued throwing various band names over his shoulder as they walked to his car, and finally she laughed a little, failing at trying to appear exasperated. "Okay. Okay. I get it. You can choose a song."

"Really?" Kensi was always in charge of the radio. Always. And a sudden burst of generosity on her part was not only out of character, but also more then a little disconcerting.

"_A_ song. To shut you up."

_There's my Kensi._ "How about we choose a happy medium instead?"

"Like...?"

"Radiohead. Or the Red Hot Chili Peppers."

"Only if you buy me dessert."

"Promise to share?"

She laughed rather maniacally. It was either extremely hot or terrifying. Deeks couldn't decide. As soon as he started to chortle along with her, her face grew deadly serious, eyes daggers. _If looks could kill._ "No."

* * *

Dinner was... nice. Normal.

It would've been nicer if he could have held her hand, but still. Showing her off to the world was good enough for the time being.

Kensi continually stole bites of his food, but Deeks didn't mind. It was kind of cute; and better yet, other people wouldn't have a doubt in their mind that they were a couple.

Back at her house, he planned on either kissing her goodnight and going home or cuddling on the couch with her, but he knew his plans were unrealistic. When he leaned in for a kiss, Kensi quickly deepened it, hooking her finger through his belt loop and tugging him closer, one hand on his waist. He tried to pull away, muttering, "Kensi...", but she continued to kiss his neck, tugging and sucking at his skin. She waited until he was nice and unraveled to return her lips to his mouth, slowly but surely knocking down his resistance, one kiss at a time.

And, as what seemed to be turning in to the usual for them, they had sex. It was good, unsurprisingly, but he wanted to hold her afterwards. He wanted her to fall asleep on his chest, to let him hold her tight, feel her breathe against him.

Determined not to make the night a total failure, he pretended to sleep, listening to her exhalations. Gradually, her breath evened out, and he waited a few more minutes to confirm that she was asleep before snuggling his face into her neck, sprawling an arm across her waist. To her, she would probably consider it something subconscious. He wanted to see how she reacted to it in the morning; if she would push him away immediately and get pissed though she had no idea he'd did it on purpose, or if she would let him lay there, allow him to continue sleeping? He knew that his first idea was the most likely, but he didn't let himself get too discouraged.

Suddenly, he felt Kensi stiffen beneath him, heard her breath catch. He forced his breathing to even out, closed his eyes, hoped she couldn't see his eyelids twitch. After a few seconds, her body relaxed, and (_Keep breathing. Come on, get your shit together) _her hand found his hair. She. Was. Stroking. His. Hair._  
_

It was so gentle, so subtle, it would've lulled him to sleep had it been an ordinary occurrence. But coming from Kensi Blye, it took everything in him to continue to pretend that he was unaware of what was going on.

As if her fingers trailing across his hairline wasn't enough, her lips, feather light, came to rest on his head, lingering. _What the hell?_

He cuddled closer to her, hoping that it wasn't a tell that he was awake. He'd been unable to pretend to be asleep any longer, had had to move to cover up his obvious surprise. She waited for so long that he thought she had fallen asleep again, and he'd considered going to sleep as well, but then her hands leisurely resumed their position on his forehead.

What did this mean? Why was she unwilling to so much as hold his hand or peck his cheek when they were both awake, but now, lying in bed together, for the first time since they'd started their liaison, she'd initiated contact?

Her hands in his hair was oddly intimate, more so than the sex they'd just had. Because although they had been physically closer earlier that night, there had been so much distance between them that the actions preformed didn't seem nearly as comforting as her fingers toying with his blond tendrils.

He wondered once again what she was doing. Why she felt comfortable touching him when he was asleep and not when they were awake. Why, when he talked about taking the next step to her, she put space between them.

She couldn't consciously know what she was doing, could she?

He knew it had to be at least one in the morning, and the mitigating caresses delivered by her fingers were enough to make anybody slip into oblivion. He curled closer to her one last time and transitioned from pretending to sleep to actually sleeping, figuring he'd figure out what had gotten into Kensi soon enough.

* * *

**A/n I'm sorry. I know, no excuse for this late of an update. Hopefully worth the wait, maybe?  
Any ideas/plot bunnies :)?  
Haha, I saw a comment about this fic on the youtube video for Sideways by Citizen Cope. Made my day!  
Special thanks to Ali aka xnothinghere. She made this chapter ten times better. And also to the amazing Maddie/NCISLAlover24 for the proof!  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	9. Chapter 9

When he woke up he automatically reached for Kensi, discovering with disappointment that her side of the bed was empty. How she'd managed to untangle herself from him remained a mystery, but then again he _had_ had a pretty deep night's rest. So deep, actually, that it wasn't too surprising that she had extracted herself from him without disrupting his sleep.

Scratching his head he entered the kitchen, the smell of the one thing Kensi could prepare halfway decently wafting into his nostrils- coffee.

"Morning, Sweet Cheeks. Did you sleep well? Because I slept _great._"

She swatted his arm as she walked past him, ceramic mug in hand. "That was for the pet name. And yeah, I slept... good."

Raising an eyebrow he smiled to himself, turning his back to her as he poured a cup of coffee. Tone nonchalant he leaned against the counter, sipping his beverage. "I've been thinking lately."

She cast him a warning glance; she knew how these conversations usually escalated.

"About getting a haircut," Deeks elaborated, watching how her shoulders sagged with relief that they weren't discussing anything that could potentially contravene their unspoken laws. "It would save me a lot of lip from Sam, and plus, I think I would look pretty good as a baldy."

"Bald?" she asked, her eyes widening with something akin to discontentment momentarily before returning unreadable. "If that's what you want. It's your hair."

"What, you wouldn't miss it at all? The way it looks? The smell of it? Playing with it?"

Suspicion clouded her face, making her eyes dart from her drink to him in less than a millisecond. "When have I ever played with your hair?"

He simply shrugged, unsure how hard he wanted to push yet. She returned her gaze to her drink, obviously unsatisfied with his answer.

Wondering how he could gently ease her into a conversation about last night, he sat across from her. "Hey, remember when we were talking about ways to tell if a girl likes a guy and I said that girls hit guys they liked? You know what else girls do? Play with guys' hair."

He scanned her face carefully as her eyes widened, watched as she all but slammed her coffee cup onto the table, drops of the scorching liquid sloshing onto the table. "Is there something you want to say?"

"No, no..." he dismissed, frowning slightly. "I was just wondering if you stroke people's hair at night a lot or every now and then or..."

"You were awake?" she asked, cheeks flushing adorably. She really _was _stunning when she was angry.

He didn't answer, waiting for her to defend her actions. When she didn't he continued. "I just don't understand why you're not willing to let me kiss you and hold your hand and stuff when we're both awake. Why can't we have a normal relationship?"

"Isn't this enough for you?!" she asked, furious. He knew the 'this' she was referring to was their current relationship status of PWB (Partners With Benefits).

"No," he admitted, voice soft. He didn't want to be mad; he wanted to talk to her civilly for once. "I want a life with you, Kensi," he told her, standing up. Storms that couldn't be fought off stirred beneath the surface of his skin, the honesty in his words resonating through his body. "I want you to move in with me. I want to be able to call you my girlfriend and show you off. I want to marry you. I want to be able to tell you that I love you."

He approached Kensi, placing a hand on her jaw. "Kensi, I love you."

He watched her blink rapidly, stunned by his confessions. Wondering if she would let him he leaned towards her, dropping a gentle kiss onto her lips. When she didn't automatically pull away he deepened it, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth, listening as she emitted a minuscule noise, one of resistance. Despite her weak hum she put forth no other opposition, and he was the first to pull away.

The air was thick with silence for a while, the only sound being that of Kensi and Deeks' slightly labored breath as they attempted to catch it. He was about to say something either stupid or cheesy when Kensi rose to her feet in an instant, marching towards his bedroom. Deeks followed, his heart pounding.

"Kensi, what are you..."

He walked in to the room, watching with wide eyes as clothes were thrown into a luggage that lay open on his bed, toiletries tossed into a plastic grocery bag. Miscellaneous items were tossed haphazardly into the suitcase, keys were snatched.

"Kensi, come on..."

She avoided his eyes, grabbing her possessions and storming past him, car keys in hand.

"Please, Kensi." He was desperate. If he had to describe Kensi in one word, it would be stubborn. If she left then he doubted he would be able to get her back anytime soon. And loosing her, not just as a lover but as a partner and a best friend, would be unbearable.

Half jogging to keep up with her he caught her wrist as she neared to door, and she turned around, livid. He could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes, and he knew in that instant that this was hard for her too.

"I'm sorry."

She tugged free from him, and before he knew it, the door was slammed in his face. Shocked, he considered going after her, but he knew it would piss her off even more than she already was. He just prayed that Kensi would cool off and come to her senses.

Even though he was willing to find false hope in just about anything, he knew that the probability of her coming back to him wasn't likely.

* * *

"This isn't _my_ fault, right? I mean, she's the one who was all 'Promise me you won't die'. She was totally leading me on. I thought she wanted to be with me, and suddenly _I'm_ the bad guy for wanting a normal, healthy relationship? I'm not being unreasonable. You're on my side, right, buddy?"

Monty slid onto his stomach, lying his head on his crossed paws, raising his ears as if to say, "I'm listening."

"I love her. I want to marry her. Is that so bad? Normal girls would love to have a relationship with me, and the one girl I want to spend the rest of my life with is playing hard to get. Really?"

Monty had fallen asleep.

Deeks heaved a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. He'd been talking to his dog. That was a new level of low.

"I love her," he repeated to himself quietly, his voice full of honesty and hurt. Shaking his head as if to clear it he lowered himself onto the couch, preparing himself for the first of many long and sleepless nights.


	10. Part two: Kensi

_I put your picture away, sat down and cried today... I can't look at you while I'm lying next to him. - Kid Rock & Sheryl Crow_

* * *

It was stupid and a mistake and completely her fault. And she'd been a bitch. And she'd lost her best friend.

Great.

Hell.

In one word, that summed up her life since she'd left Deeks. Oh yeah, she forgot to put a 'slow' in front of it. A slow, fiery inferno, that started from the inside out, burning it's way from front and center to the edges of her hair, the tips of her toes.

She knew that whatever they'd had wasn't going to end well. They were both going to hurt, be hurt, hurt each other. And they had. Well, she had. Deeks had yet to hurt her yet, which made her feel more shitty than she already did. But, then again, she was relieved. Because in the end, that had been the whole point of her leaving him- he couldn't get too close. She couldn't be too close. And he, he'd crossed that line with his confession. Maximum closeness achieved. Emergency dose of space, your turn to fill in.

She'd went on like this for a month. Every day she clambered into a far too empty bed, all the while muttering to herself that tomorrow couldn't be as bad as the day she'd just completed. Every day, she was mistaken and disappointed and hurt. Hurt hurt hurt.

Over the last month, she'd grown emotionally attached to sickening microwave dinners, cheap beer, and constant vigorous exercises. The silence that surrounded her house only served as a reminder that, oh yeah, she was alone. She'd run off before she could allow the worst to happen.

'The worst' being, obviously, death.

Imminent and impending, she knew that sooner or later one of them would die. If it was her and they had a personal relationship then Deeks would be far too affected, feel like he couldn't possibly move on without her. Same for her if it was him to go first. And, considering the likelihood of one of them dying sooner than later, Kensi thought she'd save them both some heartbreak.

But the first time they'd slept together...

They'd both been drunk out of their minds, honestly. She would've never allowed it to get as far as it did sober. But when they woke up naked and in the same bed together, it was easy to read between the lines. She still wondered why they had sex the second time, or more specifically why she didn't stop him. There wasn't any alcohol involved, no, just two partners drained after a case that hit too close to home, two agents that needed each other. They'd got what they needed that night, but little did Kensi know that her weakness had been the beginning of the end. The end of their Partner's With Benefits ordeal, the end of their partnership, and most importantly the end of their friendship.

Kensi cringed as she took a bite of her instant mashed potatoes. Man, she missed his cooking. And his dish washing, but that was another thing completely. Disposing her unfinished meal (if it could even be considered that) into the nearly overflowing trash can, she briefly contemplated grabbing a beer and her half finished tub of double chocolate ice cream, but she wasn't in the mood for anything sweet or anything alcoholic, which was odd.

Instead she went onto her back porch, starlight twinkling overhead. It really was a beautiful night.

She realized that, while staring into the navy blue of the sublime darkness, she hadn't noticed anything around her lately except for the dull and unexceptional. And then, even more startling than her previous comprehension, she was struck with the thought that she hadn't wanted to see anything good in the world. She was moping, or rather coping. As her father used to tell her, 'Breathing isn't the same as living.' She finally understood what he meant.

Everything was just going through the motions. Had been for a month.

She half-assedly wrapped her hands in gauze, punching the bag that hung next to her porch light with as much effort as possible. She thought of him; his smile, his stupid jokes, _him, _whacking her hand into the bag harder repeatedly, over and over again. She didn't stop until she could no longer feel her fingers, the pain that accompanied each blow becoming replaced with a numbness that she hadn't been accustomed to 'til the night that she'd left him.

When she looked down at her hands the bandages were turning crimson and damp, blood seeping through the layers of the lousy taping job. She inhaled sharply as she unwound the gauze, revealing knuckles that had once again been busted open, fingers that had long since turned a sickening blue and black.

Holding out her hands so that she could see them fully, a beer suddenly didn't sound too bad. When she walked in, she noticed how gross her house had become, clothes and dishes and empty bottles littering the floor. Then she took note of how bored she really was, the type of boredom that was draining, physically and emotionally. Knowing that she would probably regret the decision in the morning, she checked the time. Eight thirty.

After showering and preparing she found herself driving to a club, somehow managing to secure her fingers around the steering wheel. She headed straight for the counters of the bar, smiling as a man almost immediately offered to buy her a drink.

After an hour, they were already heading back to her place. Though the man scrunched his face unattractively at the mess that was her home he said nothing, letting Kensi escort him towards the bedroom. She tried her best to act seductive and cunning, but she just _couldn't_. Unbeknownst to the man whose name was Miccah or Mikey or Micheal or Mick or something, she knocked down the picture of Deeks that sat on her nightstand, hearing it shatter on the floor. She tried not to let 'M Guy' see her grimace at the noise.

* * *

When she woke up, M Guy was gone within five minutes, dismissing himself with a quick, "I'll call you."

Disgusted with herself and her situation, she perched herself on the end of the bed, shoulders heavy. She knew it had been wrong to use M Guy, but she'd needed an answer. And the answer was not one she was happy with.

M Guy had proved to her that she couldn't put Deeks behind her. She couldn't simply move past the chapter in her life that had had him in it. Sex with Whatever-His-Damn-Name-Was hadn't even compared to sex with Deeks. And though M Guy had been pretty hot, he had an extremely self righteous attitude that was a total turn off. Deeks on the other hand not only won the looks competition but the personality one as well. She couldn't have him, though, and she knew it. Not with his job.

She placed her forehead in her disfigured hands, embracing the tenderness of the obstructed skin. She sniffled, wept, reprimanded herself. How long she sat crying was hard to tell, but she knew it had been awhile because the Sunday sun was already high in the sky, California's heat radiating into her stuffy room. Finally, she forced herself to be somewhat productive, taking a cold shower before suffering through the ache of her knuckles and power cleaning her house, blasting rather depressing music the whole time. The scrubbing and organizing and washing unexpectedly soothed her, became something akin to therapy. But that didn't mean that she wouldn't have wanted Deeks there to help her instead of taking on the task alone.

Kensi sat down on the now crumb-and-clutter-free couch, tucking her feet into the cushions. She knew what she had to do, but she couldn't force herself to move. Not yet.

She stayed sitting for a long time; when she finally built up the nerve, the sun was setting. Reminding herself that her fingers were demolished, not to chew the cuticles, she refrained herself from initiating the nervous habit that had recently grown into something comparable to an addiction. Not bothering to fix her hair or change her clothes, her legs carried her to the parking lot on their own accord, dragging her unwillingly to the driver's seat of her car.

She couldn't go on living like this. She had to talk to him. She had to get her partner back.

* * *

**A/n Wow. 111 reviews. You guys are the BEST. I love you all!  
White Bishop? Helllllloooooo? Your inputs are always so helpful :) Where were you?  
As always, thanks Maddie!  
Again, love you guys! *hugs*  
XOXO-  
Cierra**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n Special thanks to: NCISLAlover24 for the proofs (check out her stories! Thanks amiga!), White Bishop (your input was always amazing, and despite if I used your ideas or not I always appreciated them and took them into consideration), Jkaur24 (love that you checked up on me every now and then :), Ali (° ͜ʖ ͡°), and everybody else who reviewed and read! Love you guys!  
XOXO-  
Cierra **

* * *

She fumbled up the stairs to his apartment, her keys clamoring in her shaking hands as she knocked on the door, willing herself not to run away when she heard footsteps approaching from the other side.

"Kensi," Deeks said when he opened the door, only a hint of surprise in his voice. Other than the slight confusion in his tone because of her unforeseen visit he showed no emotion, his face expressionless, and Kensi tried to ignore how unfazed he seemed to be by her appearance. But she knew that, had the tables been turned, she would've already been screaming and throwing punches. Her behavior had been inexcusable, and if he didn't forgive her then she honestly couldn't blame him.

She took him in, shagginess and all. At work they were professional but only spoke to each other when necessary, and seeing him in his own house caused her to take note of how scruffy his beard had become. Not to mention his actual hair was nearly past his chin. Now that she thought to look, the bottoms of his eyes were coated with bags.

Overwhelming guilt washed over her, and she pressed her palm to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. What was she supposed to say?

It was silent for a while, and Kensi knew she looked insane rubbing the top her head like she was, but honestly she couldn't find it in her to care how she appeared. Suddenly, she started to blurt out an explanation for her behavior, the words gracelessly fumbling over each other as they exited her mouth. "Deeks, listen. I know I acted like a bitch and I know you're probably pissed at me, and if you're not then you should be. I didn't mean to hurt you." She could feel tears welling in her eyes, and her voice caught in her throat. "I just... I couldn't lose you. And I know you wouldn't have left me like Jack, but that wasn't what I was worried about. I was worried about you leaving me like my- my dad did." She took a deep breath, trying to swallow past a lump. "I know you promised that you wouldn't die, but you can't... nobody can guarantee..." She trailed off, unable to continue. She tried to calm herself down, blinking rapidly and biting her lip. "I'm sorry," she finished lamely, scanning his face for a sign that he forgave her.

"It's okay," he lied, his voice a monotone.

"No, it's not."

He didn't reply.

She felt like hell, her attempt at apologizing having went completely wrong. Her vision swam and her head felt light, her heart heavy. She dropped her gaze, her eyes found the hardwood floor of his apartment building. She could feel his eyes on hers as she continued to avoid his stare, afraid of what she might find in it.

When he spoke his voice sounded candid and businesslike, something that was the exact opposite of Deeks. He acted as though they'd just finished a finance seminar; certainly not as though she'd just poured her heart out to him. "Anything else?"

Her heart sank into her stomach, and she shook her head sadly. He scrutinized her, and she hated the way he was staring, like he was looking for a reason not to hate her. Like he couldn't find one. "I'll see you at work, then."

She opened her mouth to say something else, anything, but before she had the opportunity he'd closed the door, not sparing her so much as a parting glance.

* * *

She told herself that she was crying because Jack had just drowned during _Titanic_, not because of anything that had happened earlier that day. She told herself that sobbing her heart out to a movie that she'd seen over three hundred times was perfectly normal, and that eating a gallon of rocky road ice cream was acceptable. She told herself that she did not fit the normal, overemotional break-up cliché, that she was still tough-as-nails killer Kensi.

She'd dumped guys before but Deeks... Deeks was a different story.

He wasn't just any guy. He was her best friend, her partner. The love of her life.

She loved him.

She'd lost him.

It was stupid, she knew. What she didn't know was how to get him back. If he would ever take her back. If she could go on another day without him by her side.

She wiped a few tears from her face a sniffled, dragging herself to her bed. She was really dreading the fact that she had to work the next day and seriously considered calling in sick but decided against it. She was a damn good agent, and she couldn't hold back because of personal matters. After all, the team shouldn't have to suffer through more work because they were a man short.

She knew her sleep would be restless, and it was. She woke up four times in the night, and by the time it hit six thirty and it really was time to wake up she was exhausted. Somehow she managed to make herself somewhat presentable, and she drank an extra cup of coffee before she left, figuring she would need all of the caffeine she could get.

When she finally dragged into ops she immediately collapsed into her chair, not bothering to raise her eyes when Sam and Callen walked in, and certainly not venturing to steal a glance at Deeks when she heard him approach. The guys (Sam and Callen) tried to make small talk with her, even asked if she was okay, and she tried her damnedest to convey the message that she was fine. Sam and Callen didn't seem to realize that she was bullshitting them, and if they did they didn't call her out on it.

The case was rather gruesome, but Kensi couldn't bother to get interested by it. In the long run it was almost as boring as a day full of paperwork.

And there was another shoot out, and another bad guy was caught. Same old story.

Sam and Callen offered to buy some drinks as a celebratory toast to making the world a little better place, but Kensi and Deeks both politely refused, and she trudged to her car, heart heavy.

They were the only two in the parking lot, and seeing him head to his own house made Kensi's head spin, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She couldn't let her stupidity ruin the best thing that had ever happened to her. She cornered Deeks by his vehicle, grabbed his hand. "Hey, if you don't want to go out with me then that's perfectly understandable. But... can we please still try to be friends? Please?"

Deeks looked at his hand, glanced back at Kensi. "Who said I didn't want to go out with you?"

She felt her heart skip a beat, her eyes widening. "What?"

"I don't want to... just have sex with you. I want to _go out_ go out with you."

"Seriously?" she asked, incredulous.

Deeks nodded, and Kensi raised an eyebrow. "Uh..."

"When you came to me last night, you never said that you wanted to date me."

"No... but... it could've been implied, right?"

Deeks grinned, shaking his head. "Apparently not. What we've got here is a failure to communicate."

"Cool Hand Luke?"

"Guns N' Roses."

She smoothed back her hair, still wondering if she was dreaming or not. "So... what now?"

"Make up sex?"

She laughed, relieved and confused and disbelieving and a handful of other emotions. "Wasn't the whole point of our creative discussion that we shouldn't just have sex?"

"No, it was that we should have a normal relationship, and in a normal relationship make up sex would be the appropriate method of dealing with this situation."

She shrugged. _Sure as hell not going to argue with that valid point. _"Okay, but I have to say something first."

He smiled, tugged her hand. "I'm listening."

"I think I love you."

Kensi's pulse increased its tempo, her breath caught. And cue goofy grin from Deeks.

She kissed him back when his lips met hers, and when he pulled away she was breathless. That had to have been the best kiss she'd ever had in her life.

"I think I love you, too."

* * *

A month later she packed the last of her bags, loaded up her car. They hadn't been able to decide whose place they were moving in to, and in the end they decided on a happy medium- a new apartment all together. With their combined salaries they could afford a nicer place than they'd had before, and the building they were planning on living in was spacious; two bathrooms with a huge master suite and a spare bedroom. Not to mention that it wasn't even four miles from the beach.

Deeks was waiting for her when she pulled in, smiling. Together they deposited all of her items (which took a ridiculously long time since she was an honorary hoarder) and collapsed on the couch, his arm around her shoulder, her head on his chest.

"Glad that's over with," she said, yawning. "Who's up for a nap?"

"Aww, c'mon. Don't want to break in the house?" he joked, cuddling closer to her.

"And you said I was the sex crazy one."

"We can take a nap, but first there's something I have to show you."

"Have to?" she groaned, closing her eyes. "Does it require me moving?"

His hand was in his pocket, obviously trying to fish something out. "No, actually."

"Okay, good. Because I wouldn't have moved any-"

She trailed off, eyes set on what he held in front of him. A ring lay between his fingers, sparkling in the sun that streamed through the windows.

"Marry me?"

**FIN**


End file.
